


Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned

by soft_and_bold



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Gay Panic, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Mention of underage drinking, Religion, a really shitty priest, badboy! markus, catholic! connor, connor with a touch of trauma, conversion therapy, doing his best markus, ive got many many feelings, kamski is a priest, markus 'saves' connor, markus is gay, markus still believes in god but does religion bad, markus still saving peoples souls, praying the gay away, questioning faith, rebel markus, religious homophobia, this one hurts friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 21:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_and_bold/pseuds/soft_and_bold
Summary: Connor has been a devout church goer his entire life. So has Markus. The difference is Markus sees religion differently to most people. After coming out to his dad, the church is informed to "fix" him. Their Solution? Connor. Connor who follows religious doctrine without thought or question. Markus want's Connor to see things with wider eyes. Also he just wants Connor.Connor was meant to save Markus, but maybe Connor was the one who was truly meant to be saved.





	1. Markus may have a little bit of a crush. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> So before you read this, as someone who grew up in a very religious home and realised they were queer, i've felt alot of Connor's feelings. But some of this work isn't a fun time. So if you still feel like being queer makes you awful because of your religion (you're perfect and wonderful by the way - https://www.thetrevorproject.org/trvr_support_center/lgbtq-religion/#sm.00136ta04mnze0r119r21jfqkz53j ), please don't read this because it gets sort of dark. Be safe. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THE WHOLE FIC:religious based homophobia, internalised homophobia, 'praying the gay away', conversion therapy (chp 3) - also bryan and amelia aren't homophobes, I just wanted to call his parents something that made sense. 
> 
> <3 
> 
> Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/monihope/playlist/2YgyOQVwu3dZewHYHZ7YWZ?si=ddVkPUf_Qy-7veNQq4ZXjQ 
> 
> Also Bryan and amelia aren't homophobes, I just wanted to call his parents something that made sense.

Connor had gone to church twice a week for as long as he remembered. Choir on Saturday, Church services on Sunday. And that is how it had always been. church was a constant. It gave guidance and purpose to everything that he did. Every question and trial of faith was met with a battle of prayer until it was overcome. He had no reason to doubt. None at all. His parents were strict Catholics and always encouraged him to love God with all his heart and to be involved in church life as much as possible. He was told to always tell the truth, to honour the 10 commandments. His hair was always neat, button up shirt always tucked into his black jeans, accompanied by a cardigan or blazer. And his grades at school were impeccable. He was the epitome of a good child. A pillar in the churches youth community. A lot of adults assumed that he would lead the youth ministry of the church after doing the relevant courses at a bible college. And Connor had decided they were probably right. It's what seemed most likely. Church had always been his life, a future without it was incomprehensible. His was set on a very specific track, and it would never change. He was happy with how things were going, he didn't want anything to shift. Or so he believed. 

Getting on his bike he cycled the short distance to church for Sunday morning's service, enjoying the peaceful nature of his small suburban American town. He preferred to leave home earlier than his family, and while they used to go home together once church had finished, he now spent time with Markus after services. The Elders of the church had asked him to keep an eye on Markus, befriend him, save his soul. It was a mission that he took very seriously, as their priest, Father Kamski, had entrusted it to him personally. Arriving, parking his bike, and walking through the churches doors were like coming home. The smell of wooden pews welcoming him like a friend. The humming of the congregation's conversation as familiar to him as his own two hands. He wasn't the last to arrive, but everyone had begun to take their seats. Stretching up, standing on his toes he looked over the crowd in search of one particular figure. Then checking his watch, he realised he was getting his hopes up for him to be here this early. After greeting other members of the congregation, he took his usual seat close to the front. 

Nearly everyone had gathered and was seated in time for the service, but the sound of heavy combat boots on the red carpeted floor were unmistakable. It was Markus. Only just in time as usual. Connor did all he could to not turn and watch the other boy enter in his dramatic flurry. As the service began, and as It continued he would shift his head and look out the corner of his eyes at Markus. Broody rebel Markus, whose entire wardrobe was black. Connor had always been intrigued by him. He was so different to everything Connor knew. Something about him felt forbidden, but he could never place why he felt that. He was so shrouded in mystery and yet when he smiled his dashing smile and his eyes said trust me. Trust me and will show you the world. Sometimes when he dreamt at night he saw those eyes and that smile, and he would respond in kind. 'I'll go'. He shook his head, expelling the thoughts and feelings that that smile inspired in him. Mindlessly he snapped an elastic band that had found its home on his wrist. He wasn't going down that road. He knew better. And as the minister talked about the consequences of sin during the mornings homily he smiled down at his hands, pretending as hard as he could that he had no idea why. 

Markus went to church services with his Grandfather, Carl, every Sunday. And every Sunday he would make a nuisance of himself. He didn't try to, but his "unconventional" appearance and "problematic situation" made him stand out. He knew the congregation gossiped about him He could hear the whispers. And he'd just smirk and play into the godless bad boy role they had so needlessly put him into. It's not that he didn't believe that God wasn't real, he just hated the concept of organised religion. And sitting still for so long. And rules that weren't fair. There was so much pomp and circumstance in the Catholic church that he just couldn't stand. It was so strict and constrained, it offered no room to breathe, no room for growth. For Markus, being at Church was akin to being imprisoned, or suffocated. Everyone was so afraid of change. But not him. He'd long since come to terms with the fact that the world he was in was different to how it was in the catholic bubble. Of course, after he'd come out as gay to his Grandfather the church tried their best to intervene, even attempted to excommunicate him at one point. 

But in the end, they decided his soul could still be saved. This was probably due to Carls intervention. He'd been supportive of Markus since he came out, and he did what he could to calm the churches worries. There was hope for him away from his 'sinful Satan following ways'. And that was where Connor came in. Beautiful mindless Connor, always wearing his button up and black tie, always so eager to please and convert. They'd known each other since they were kids but had never been close. In fact as children they had been known to bicker constantly. And then they'd grown up, spending more time ignoring each other than fighting. But Markus had always appreciated the other from a distance. They were two different sides of a coin. And now, due to some unfortunate circumstances, Connor would now follow him around on Sunday like a lost puppy and talk about the beauty of God and the purpose it gave him. The mindlessness he displayed was so heartbreaking. He was so stuck in pre-programmed ways that there was never the possibility that he could become something else. He had the potential to be so beautiful, and yet he existed as a blank slate.

Despite their differences Markus couldn't deny Connor had a certain level of charm to him. He always knew what to say and when he smiled the entire room lit up. He was like a sun, cheerful and bright, radiating wit beauty. Every girl he'd ever come into contact with had fallen for him, and whether he knew it or not was a different matter altogether. And he'd admit there was more than one time he'd found himself lost in his deep chocolate eyes. There was something about him that drew you into his universe. His security in his religion took a backseat to his naturally caring nature, his way with people, his genuine love for the world around him. And for someone like Markus who was being constantly judged for his every action, it was nice that someone like Connor paid him attention. 

Recently, for about a month or so, Connor and he had spent a lot of time with each other. Much more than they ever had in their 17 years of knowing each other. Every now and then he'd notice Connor when he was out grocery shopping for his Grandfather after school. Connor would even be at the library while he was studying, despite never seeing him there before. But it was incredibly obvious to him that Connor was following him. Or at least keeping a close eye on what he was up to for some reason. And while it was suspicious he let it slide. He'd just come to the assumption that the church had asked him to keep an eye on him. And then Connor had asked him to go out one time, and since then they'd been meeting up after school at least four times a week. He'd attempted to ask why Connor was following him a few times, but he was never given a direct answer. 

As usual the service went by smoothly, Markus doing his best to keep quiet and shrink in on himself, Connor taking diligent mental notes of the entire homily. Once the service was finished Markus left the building as soon as he possibly could. Walking out into the green of the courtyard he could finally breathe properly once more. And in under a minute Connor was by his side, smiling his smile, following him as he proceeded to take a seat on a bench underneath a tree that gave him a good view of the church and everyone exiting. He couldn't deny that the church was beautiful, with its stained-glass windows and grey stone walls. It was quaint and tradition, a slanted roof and a cross on top. But he appreciated its simplicity. The churches courtyard and garden was something he cared about much more. There were so many different flowers that had been planted, and the tree that was placed in the middle of the circular garden was incredibly old, and very large. 

'Did you like the Homily today Markus?' Connor inquired in his beautiful voice. 

'It was okay,' his reply was flat. He really didn't have much to contribute to a post-sermon discussion since he had been busy thinking about, well, Connor. Again. Instead of actually paying attention he'd been fantasising about how soft Connor's hair would feel beneath his fingers. He was starting to think he may have a serious problem on his hands. While he was used to his mind regularly wandering to Connor during Church services, he had to admit that he had been thinking about him much more than often. But he shelved that thought for another day. It was useless revisiting what all his staring and pondering meant. He put his hand on Connors shoulder. 

'Look buddy. I know you love those Homilies so much. And they're great. Really. I mean it. But some of those things he was saying, like how we got to hell if we don't confess enough, and we have to work hard to get into heaven, doesn't that seem ridiculous to you?' Sure, he had hardly paid attention, but even someone daydreaming notices when a priest starts spouting off fire and brimstone nonsense. 

'Don't be ridiculous Markus. Of course our actions in this life dictate the status of our soul. That's why being kind to your fellow man is so important'. At that comment Markus chuckled, amused by his innocence. Underneath all the god babble his kindness was genuine, he cared for others, even if he believed it was for a higher being. Connor did that thing where he frowned only slightly and pouted, confused at why someone would disagree with the word of god. 'Do you not believe you have a soul?' 

Then he lowered his voice 'Connor, you don't need to try to convert me. You can follow me around like you usually do and make them believe you're doing your best to save me but all this' he gestures to their surroundings and then at Connor 'It won't help me.' 

'Why would you think that? There's always help Markus. No one is beyond hope'. 

'Because I still believe in God you idiot'. 

'But you wear leather jackets?' Connor's confusion in the moment was so endearing. 

'So?' He replied. 

'We're at Church and leather jackets are for heathens.', the lilt in his voice made Markus lose it. The laughter at Connors naivety was loud and bright and filled Connor's ears with its beautiful sound. But Markus could feel the lingering gazes of the congregation on his back while he laughed, but it was worth it. Connor's innocence was so evident in moments like these. Of course Connor equated his somewhat delinquent appearance to lacking any form of faith. That's probably what his Mother had taught him, and why he himself was always dressed so orderly. He smiled and shook his head. 

'Don't ever change Connor. Don't ever change'. And Connor beamed at the odd compliment, something Markus rarely ever gave him since they had started associating with each other much more closely. And then he took a deep breath and stood up, ready to go home. As expected Connor followed close behind. Together they went to collect Connor's bike and then began the short journey home. Connor had taken up walking Markus home as some sort of saintly act. Markus would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the accompaniment. It made the trip seem shorter. And any extra time with Connor was definitely a bonus. 

'Hey Connor?'

'Yeah?'

'Why are you following me around so much anyway?' As soon as he asked he could tell that he'd caught him off guard. That was interesting. He'd assumed that the church would have told him, but all the conversations they'd had didn't even hint at Connor knowing what he was getting himself into. 

'Well…', Connor paused. His mind was racing. They hadn't. They'd just told him what to do. While they'd provided him with an overview he was given any specifics. They'd given him a job, an objective, and he was doing his best to carry it out. 

'They didn't tell you did they'

'No'. 

Markus smiled softly. Maybe there was still hope for Connor yet. Glancing at him Markus could see the cogs turning behind Connor's eyes. The curiosity and intrigue that wanted to make him ask why he was assigned such a task bubbled beneath his skin. 

'It doesn't matter anyway. I just want to help you Markus. It's what they want too. The semantics are unimportant.' At this point Connor was unsure if he was lying or not. The semantics hardly mattered? Did they? It made sense that they would tell him what was going on. Every other time he'd been tasked to help someone he'd been told. Why not now? They'd only told him fractured parts of a whole story.   
'What do you know anyway? I'm curious', Markus asked. He was sure if he asked the right question inevitably something would crack. He wasn't sure why, but he had a need to save Connor, to show him something different, to show him that he could be something different. 

'They said something about you was wrong, that you've committed about blasphemy. That you're lost and godless and you needed to be brought back home.' He shrugged non-committedly 'So that's what I'm doing'. 

'What if I was right in what I said though?'

'Blasphemy is still blasphemy Markus.'

'Connor you've spent weeks following me around. No concrete reason to it at all. You presumed the worst about me. That I was godless.' at this Connor tried to interject to state how incorrect that was. 'Okay maybe I'm not a stand-up member of the Catholic community. But I'm happy. Doing things that feel right for me? I think that's what God wanted. Not mindlessly following rules, you know?' Looking to his side he'd realised Connor was no longer following him and had stopped, completely stunned on the side walk. 

'Connor?' Markus touched his arm slightly to wake him out of his self-imposed catatonic state.

'You shouldn't speak like that Markus.' His face was stern, most likely in concern for his soul after hearing such a brash and controversial statement. But if you looked a little closer you could see the hint of fear in his eyes. The cracks in a persona that had been built over years. Cracks the questions made bigger. And with that Connor got on his bike and turned around, leaving Markus to walk home alone. And while it wasn't how Markus had wanted their conversation to end he hadn't said anything that wasn't true and maybe he had gone a bit too far but maybe something he'd told him would sink in. Maybe even one question could lead him to reconsider everything he'd ever known and open his eyes to so many possibilities. Connor deserved to know how big the world really was. 

//

 

Connor was, well, angry. Or maybe deeply frustrated was the proper descriptor. Why would Markus say something like that to him? He furiously cycled home, and then went around the block just to release all the extra energy. His hands tightly held onto the handlebars until he finally arrived back home, body in a sweat, his usually perfect hair mussed, his tie slightly loose, first button now undone so he could breathe better. Unmounting from his bike and propping it against the house he went inside, doing his best not to allow the frustration and anger show but it still stirred in the pit of his stomach. He shouted out a quick hello to his parents and then made his way upstairs to his room

Markus was wrong, he told himself over and over again. He repeated it like a mantra. 

'Psalm chapter twelve verse two, "They speak falsehood to one another; With flattering lips and with a double heart they speak" he spoke aloud. That's right, Markus had doubt in his heart. He was lost and confused. His words came from a place that lacked understanding and conviction in faith. But something about the words did little to comfort his racing mind. It was obscene that what Markus had said affected him so much. He'd spent so much time trying to lead him down the godly path that he had never even considered the questions he had asked. The how's, what's and why's. And now that they had been brought to his attention he couldn't shake them. Everything he had said had made its way into his cracks, question and things he had never considered. But he was happy the way he was. And he didn't need Markus telling him to do things differently. And yet. Markus seemed so free. Despite the judgement that had passed on him he still came to church. And it would be a complete lie if he hadn't noticed the change in Markus after he'd started dressing in darker clothes. He'd changed, evolved into something else, something better. He acted as if he'd just taken a much needed long deep breath. 

Follow and trust your Elders. 

That is what he had been taught. 

That is what he latched onto in moments like these. 

Doing so had not led him astray so far. And every step off of the sacred path resulted in the firm but loving guidance of his peers. Those moments of self-doubt, of indulging even the slightest thoughts of things that were not right always led him onto his knees, praying that things would be alright, trying to convince God to take these feelings and thoughts away from him. But he was much stronger now than he was in his younger years. Less confused. He knew the direction he was going in. 

And yet Markus. Strong willed Markus who stuck out of the conventional crowds like a sore thumb and yet carried himself with dignity. Markus who tolerated him and smiled and nodded when they talked. There was something about his laugh that made his heart stop. And he tried not to smile at the thought of him, but he couldn't. The warmth in his chest was unbearable and he hated it. Wanted it to stop. Needed it to stop. He snapped at his rubber band to bring himself back from his thoughts. Taking a deep breath before it could over-come him he opened his Bible, taking comfort in its well-worn pages. He kept trying to read but he kept considering what Markus had said. 

No.

He shook his head, expelling the doubt that would surely follow such thoughts before it made any real impact. 

That was unimportant. What he really needed to be thinking of was think of the best way to approach the problem. No matter how difficult the issue people were counting on him to help Markus. And he was counting on himself to complete his mission. 

 

//

 

It wasn't until later that night when he was lying in his double bed looking blankly at the white ceiling that Markus realised he may possibly be completely and utterly fucked. Connor and he had known each other their entire lives. He had been just fine admiring Connor from a distance. There had never been any reason for them to ever be all that close. Sure they'd talked on occasion but he could tell the other boy was wary of him. And he had every reason to be. Markus didn't really uphold those good old fashioned catholic values. Sometimes he would come to church with his jacket smiling slightly of cigarette smoke and whisky from a party he was at the night before. He and Connor were just so different. Connor wore fancy cologne and always had his hair done perfectly. His suits were always well tailored, and on the off chance that he wore a cardigan, white t-shirt and black jeans he looked even better. He was perfect in practically every way. And it was maddening. Markus rolled over and let out a loud frustrated groan into his pillow. This entire thing was so stupid. Crushes on Connor from afar were fine. They were wiped away with the voices of other boys who said they loved him in the dark. But Connor up close. That was dangerous. It made it easier to lose yourself in his soft eyes and kind smile. You had to read through his love of God to see his genuine care for people. Everything about him that was fascinating from a distance came into clear view. 

No matter what argument he made for himself, no matter how hard he tried to talk himself out of his feelings he always came back to Connor. The warmth of his smile, his laugh, his interesting and intelligent theological and scientific arguments. But that would never happen. Not in a million years. Not while Connor followed a faith blindly without question or thought. Who knows what he really thought about someone like Markus when he found out what was really "wrong" with him. But he kept coming back to the possibility, the hope that 1% of doubt that seeded in Connor's mind could offer a vastly different outcome. The possibility of a yes where no seemed the only likelihood from any confession he made. While poking at Connors faith had always been somewhat of a past time for him now it seemed important. He needed Connor to see him. To really see him. He wanted him to look past his exterior without any judgement and see what lied in his heart. 

 

He threw his pillow against the wall. 

There was no way in hell this was going to end well for him.


	2. Connor Has A Moment

Connor did not expect dinner that Sunday night to be such an awkward affair. Conversation between his parents and he always flowed smoothly. There were never any siblings to bicker with, and his parents and he were very quiet peace liking people. Dinner talk was always amicable and respectful, but tonight everything felt slightly off. For once he had so much on his mind that he really didn't have much to say. His parents asked questions but his responses were always short and curt. He was worried that he would come across as somewhat rude but hoped that they would understand. His parents however were much more aware than he gave them credit for and seemed to be notice that something may have been wrong, even if he wouldn't say what it was, and they wouldn't ask out of politeness. The two of them shared a way glance. His Mother, Amelia Dechart was a tidy professional woman, she always wore her dark hair up in a bun, coupled with her favourite pear earrings and matching necklace. She was beautiful. His Father, Bryan Dechart would sit at the head of the table, and just like him wore a button up, face always shaved, hair always back, stern but kind brown eyes just like his own. A lot of people said that the two of them looked alike, and in quiet moments like these he agreed. 

'So, Markus and you seem to be getting along well' his Mother gave his Father a concerned look that Connor missed while absentmindedly moving his peas around his plate.

'He's not really what I expected. He asks a lot of questions too.' Did he really want to divulge his doubts to his parents? He usually did, but what was stopping him this time? What Markus had said really struck a chord with him. He was now intrigued, but worried. What was it that he didn't know? And was knowing really that important?

'Oh really?'

'He- He' he needed to speak these words but it was so hard to get them out for some reason. They were stuck in his throat, as if saying them would reveal something important and he had to hold them in and keep them secret. 'He asked why I'm following him. And then I realised that I really didn't know?' He looked up from his plate to look at his parents. 'I thought the reason didn't matter. But the way he phrased it made it seem so important.' 

'All that matters it the goal though. Right Connor?' His Mother's soothing voice replied. He nodded in agreement. 

'That's what I told him. But-'. 

'But what?' her question came out much sterner than he had expected. 

'But what if he was right?' 

'Connor. Sweetie. You really shouldn't take the words of heathens to heart. He's just trying to make you confused.' Internally he scoffed. If that was what Markus was aiming to do it was most definitely working. 

'You're right. I shouldn't have even considered it. It doesn't matter.' But he knew in his heart that he didn't mean that. Saying that it didn't matter seemed to make it matter all the more. 

And with that dinner was finished, and Connor went to sleep, the predicament of Markus still on his mind. 

//

The next day just as he was walking out the door for school his Mother called out 'Oh Connor by the way, we're having people over in the afternoon, but there's no need for you to come down from your room. Just go straight upstairs, stay there and finish your homework when you come home okay?'

'Okay Mum'. 

School went by so slowly. While he diligently did his work the conversation from last night weighed heavily on him. He felt as if he was in a dream, everything was ever so slightly faded and fuzzy. He did what he needed to do but he was deeply unsettled. He hated the feeling that something was wrong, that he had revealed too much. He just wanted to understand what was going on. So why did he feel so guilty about it? In order to forget the looming feeling he opted to text Markus some photos of some cute dog's he'd found just to let him know he wasn't mad at him. To his pleasant surprise which he was gifted with more cute dogs as a reply. He smiled and let out a sigh of relief knowing that he still had a friend in Markus and that all was not entirely lost. The strange feeling he couldn't place or name still hung around but it was much more prevalent. It was nice to have a friend. 

 

Despite the rest of the day going smoothly when he arrived home his Mother was pacing the in the kitchen. Deciding it was best to ignore her he went up to his room, swapping his button up for a t-shirt and then got started on his homework. He'd designed his desk to be especially productive, important information stuck up on palm cards, infographics, and his assignment list. After he sat down, ear buds in, the world seemed to melt away as he absorbed himself in the comforting mundanity of his tasks. After an hour or two of work he stood up, picked up his empty water glass and wandered to the bathroom to refill the cup. But before he had a chance to make it to the bathroom he could hear voices speaking in hushed tones as he walked by the staircase. And then he heard his name, it seemed to be loud and clear despite everything else being muffled. And he knew he shouldn't listen in to private conversation, but he couldn't help it. The urgency of the whispering drew him in. If it was about him it was okay wasn't it? And the seriousness of the tone in which his name was spoken felt concerning and somewhat foreboding. Despite his natural morality telling him to leave he ignored it and decided to stay. Something strange was going on. 

He moved as far down the stairs as he could without being seen, making sure to stay light on his feet as to not alert anyone to his presence in order to properly listen to what was going on. He avoided the spots on the wooden staircase that creaked when stepped on. While being closer to the conversation made hearing, easier there were still moments of conversation that he missed. Words murmured as to most likely to prevent him hearing their conversation. But something about the conversation had his hairs standing up on end. 

 

'He's started asking questions.' That was definitely his Mother talking. 

'He's usually happy to follow without question. But he said some things about Markus, and we would be lying if we weren't concerned.' And that was his Fathers calm sensible voice. 

'I don't want to repeat last time. It was such a hard time for him and he's doing so much better. He's okay now. He's fixed.'

'We don't want Markus corrupting him' 

'I understand your concern. We will notify the Father Kamski of the problem and advise you how best to handle the situation. In the meantime, just keep a close eye on the boy.' After a moment of intense conversation, he realised the voice belonged to Mrs Amanda Kamski, the wife of their Priest. She was well into her 60's now, but she had aged well. She held herself in a regal and dignified manner and had a warm demeanour. 

'We just. We don't want him to remember.'

'I understand. I'll talk to my husband and we'll see what we can do to put his mind at ease'.

'Thank you so much Amanda. We appreciate it. As much as we pray for Markus we just want our son to be safe.'

He could hear them stand up but his head was reeling. His body was screaming out that something was wrong. Something wasn't safe. But he kept retelling himself that he was wrong. That he was fine. He was fine, he was safe, he was okay. And as he sat on the stairs he held his arms closely to his stomach sitting still and unmoving, clinging to a lie that he believed with his whole heart. Something about the conversation was so unsettling, and for some reason, he was scared. He should not have heard what they were talking about but now that he had he was worried. A cold fear ran through his veins, but he had no idea why he was so scared, or worried. All he knew was that something about that conversation didn't match up. And he was missing some crucial information. Standing up as quietly as possible he retreated back to the safety of his room. He sat back down at his desk, hoping that work could distract him from what was happening, but he couldn't. 

He was alone. 

He was alone, and he felt like everything around him was breaking apart and he didn't know why. 

As if the night had not been disastrous enough the next day followed in its footsteps. Mother Kissed him on the cheek when he was leaving for school and as she pulled away she said 'oh Father Kamski wanted to speak to you after school today. So if you could visit the church before you come home I'm sure he'd greatly appreciate it'. She smiled sweetly at him but he felt sick to his stomach. 

'Oh. Okay. Do you know what about?' After listening in on their conversation he definitely had a strong suspicion on the topic of their conversation. He was not looking forward to it at all. 

'I think he just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you're doing okay'. He smiled at her response. He didn't want to come off as suspicious so he just acted as normal, nodding, and then walking out of the door, saying 'I'll be back home after our discussion then' as he did so. 

//

Markus spent so much of his Monday considering how exactly he was going to convince Connor to change his mindset that he was repeatedly called out by teachers. And at the end of each class he would be asked to stay behind, and they would ask him if he was okay in that 'special voice' that made you know they meant It. And then he was even more preoccupied after Connor sent him no less than 10 photos of incredibly adorable dogs. Naturally he had to respond with more cute dogs to let him know he wasn't still mad about how they'd left things on Sunday. But he appreciated that Connor was extending an olive branch after how their conversation had ended. And that had his head more in the clouds than it was before. Such a small gesture meant that Connor cared. Connor cared about his feelings. And that made him melt. He hated it. 

By the time school was over he still didn't have a clue of how he was going to tackle his problem. He was going to have to do something big and probably also very crazy, if he was ever going to get Connor to like him. He was in a constant daze and his mind was only affixed to one thing. Connor. By now he was well aware he had a crush. He'd known he'd had it for a long time. And despite ignoring it for basically his entire life, being with him so often had made it come into focus. 

But something within him made him so worried about Connors lack of critical thought. His follow thorough of everything no matter what. He just wanted him to ask questions. To be critical. And sitting under a tree during lunch break he decided he had just a way to do it. A crazy and very stupid plan. Pestering him about why he was following him had revealed a lot about Connor, what he knew and what he didn't. And there was one thing about him that could maybe change a lot. Maybe it'll end their friendship, or whatever weird saviour/lost boy partnership thing they had going on. But it was worth the risk.

Markus knew there was no pinpoint moment when all of Connors beliefs would crumble around him. No one word he could speak that would remove a life devoted to religion. And arguing with him would be pointless. All he could do was his best to help him .   
And with that final thought he pulled out his phone as sent Connor a text. 

 

M: We should get milkshakes after school today

C: I have to run errands this afternoon

M: C'mon it'll be fun. I promise 

C: Tomorrow?

M: Okay fine. 

He grinned to himself, replying with the time they should meet and the address of the café. The first part of his plan was now in action. 

//

Connor was rather flushed when he made it to the Church after school. He'd spent the entire day trying to process the conversation he'd heard the other night, but he was just doing his best to ignore the swelling panic in his stomach for one day. Opening the old wooden arched door of the church, he called out, 'Father Kamski?' With the building being practically empty his voice echoed against the grey stone walls. All the wooden pews were empty, and while he had seen them empty many times, it still felt odd when no one were here. And then Father Kamski poked his head out from behind the alter that he had been seemingly crouched behind. 

'Ahhhh. Connor. Exactly The young man I wanted to see' 

He moved from behind the alter to sit on the pew at the very front of the church, close to the right wall patting the space next to him, beckoning Connor to join him. Connor wandered down the rest carpet in the centre isle and sat next to him. The afternoon light streamed through the stained-glass windows of saints and biblical scenes, colouring the sunlight as it entered the church. He could see the dust particles moving in the light If he looked close enough. Deciding he'd been distracted by the stained glass light for long enough he turned to look at Father Kamski. 

'Mother said you wanted to see me?' After the conversation he heard last night he was wary. One misstep and Kamski would know. None of his questions would be answered. He'd lose an opportunity to gain any information that he needed. 

'I wanted to check in on you. See how you were doing. That sort of thing.'

'I'm doing well.' 

'And how is school going?'

'My grades are above average Sir. I'm studying really hard.'

'And what about your mission with Markus? Have you made any headway?' Connor frowned slightly, unsure as to how he should respond. But before he had a chance to reply Kamski continued to speak, turning to look at him as he did so. 'You know Connor. There are many ways that the situation could play out. Depending on the choices you make. It's really all up to you. Whether Markus is saved or not, it's in your hands.' And then he smiled a strangely terrifying all knowing smile. 'I won't lie and say I'm not curious about where your decisions will lead my son.' Kamski patted Connor on the shoulder. 'They will decide who you are Connor, and who you will become'.

 

'I don't mean to be rude Sir but I'm not entirely sure I understand where you're coming from.' At that, Kamski laughed. It bounced around the walls, deep and haunting. 

'I can lead you don't a path Connor, but it's you who has to choose it.'

'But, I have chosen. I walk it.' 

'We shall see Connor. We shall see.' And then Kamski stood up and left, back to his office, leaving Connor alone to his thoughts. After the conversation last night this really put him on edge. He spoke as if he knew what was going on. As if he had a hand in it, or he was an observer and curious about what Connor would do. Something unnerved him greatly about the entire situation. Was Kamski watching him? And if so how? As he left the church and returned home he knew he would not be getting a lot of sleep that night. 

//

While Markus spent Wednesday pondering how the events of the afternoon café date would pan out Connor was heading ever deeper into panic. He felt defensive and hyper vigilant and the nausea in his stomach would not calm. It would settle and then hit him again in waves. His attempts at being somewhat amicable toward his peers and his parents fell flat. All he could do was replay that conversation over and over again. One section in particular stood out every time. And then his mind would return to his odd conversation with Kamski. What did he know? What did they now want him to know? Why was all this happening in the first place? 

'We don't want him to remember'. Remember what exactly? And why did that one sentence set his entire body on fire, and chill him to the core at the same time? And why had Kamski been so odd about the decisions he made? Maybe Markus would know? If he did he's surely tell him what was wrong. He'd take him by the hand and explain to him that everything was fine and maybe he'd just misheard or misinterpreted. There was nothing to worry about. Or maybe Markus knew something. Markus wouldn't keep secrets. He just didn't seem the type. Hopefully he could shed some light on what was happening. 

//

Markus didn't go out to cafés very often. He preferred to do things himself due to his need for his drinks to be made in a particular way. And cafes messed up milk to syrup ratios all the time, better not to risk it. But Deviancy and Co. always managed to do things just the way he liked it, so whenever he did go out, that was where he went. There was something both calming and welcoming about its weird industrial, wooden décor. Throughout the small café there were realistic looking fake flowers and plants, making you feel like you were in a long-forgotten corner of the world. As he walked through the open door he spotted Connor who was already seated at a bench by a window, bathing him in beautiful sunlight. He seemed to be idly scrolling through his phone, dressed in a light blue well fitted t-shirt and black jeans. He took a moment to appreciate the deceptive firmness of Connors arm muscles, usually hidden by long sleeved button up shirts, that were currently on display to the world. Maybe he was learning how to loosen up a little. Even if his shirt did seem to be tucked in. Adorable. 

When Markus walking into the café Connors heart skipped a beat. But he ignored it, blaming it on his hunger, his anxiety about what was going on, or a palpitation instead. He also ignored Markus, instead opting to scroll through his phone, pretending he didn't notice him walk through the door. When he did finally look up Markus was right there in front of him. He couldn't help but smile, relief filling him, from either Markus's calming presence, or the possibility of finding answers he couldn't tell, and he told himself very firmly it was the latter. 

'Hey Connor.'

'Oh I didn't see you come in'. Markus smiled, unaware of the falsehood, sat down and the two of them ordered their respective milkshakes and snacks, idly chatting until their order arrived. Connor enjoyed Markus's company more and more each passing moment. He had such interesting things to say and a unique perspective of the world that he could never come to understand. His eyes would light up when he would talk about painting, capturing the beauty of something, telling a story only you could tell and the more Connor asked him about his works the more expressive he became. And Connor would respond in kind about talking about his volunteering with the church, about his love for teaching and helping. He animatedly explained how one day he hoped to write textbooks to help people learn more effectively, as he had found all his textbooks frustrating and unhelpful. And he thrived under Markus's attention, every compliment to his style, or a particularly witty joke. Each smile or chuckle was its own reward. He felt like he was drowning and flying at the same time. Their closeness only exacerbating whatever strange feelings he seemed to be having. 

But then after a while he'd feel strange. His chest would become tight and he found breathing so hard. Everything became so heavy and he had to breathe deeply to calm the dizziness that fought to claim his consciousness. No. No. No. no. No. It was wrong.   
Whatever, whatever was going on. Whatever thoughts he had he needed to wipe clean. He would quietly snap the rubber band around his wrist to distract himself. The intense compulsion to rub out and push down whatever his heart was doing was overwhelming. Especially in small moments like these where Markus's presence was close to intoxicating. And he'd shake his head and focus, twisting the rosary beads that rested in his pockets and the overwhelming sensation would go away. 

The light-hearted conversation changed as Connor decided that now he needed answers. And Markus might be the only person to answer truthfully. 

'So' Connor started, unsure of exactly how he wanted to phrase his question. 'I think you might have answers to some questions I have'. 

'Connor you know they're not going to tell you right?', Markus replied, getting straight to the point. While it wasn't exactly what Connor wanted to talk about yet, Markus did have a point. 

'Of course, they will' he stated indignantly, not wanting admit that Markus was right. 

'They won't. They think I'm "sick" and they don't want me to infect you'. Markus smiled sadly. 

Connor rolled his eyes at that. 'Markus you're being ridiculous.' 

'Connor I'm gay. That's why you're following me. They think you can fix me.' Connor froze for a moment, eye stuck on Markus in shock. 

 

'I- I need to go', he quickly got out of his seat and hastily left the café, thoughts and emotions in complete turmoil. Everything he knew felt like it had been brought into question. For as long as he could remember his Mother had told him about the sins of homosexuality. Disgusting acts of animalistic lust that people called love. Abominations. Demonic. Satanic. Disgusting. Abhorrent. But there was Markus, wild but kind. Rough around the edges but was more upfront about his emotions and what was going on than a single person at church had ever been. Markus didn't hide. But now all he could do was run. Run home. Anywhere away from where he was now. His eyes burned, vision blurry, awkwardly stumbling down the street on his way back home, fumbling with the door handle of the house before he made his way upstairs to his room without so much as a hello to his parents. 

 

He found himself on his knees again, screaming in his heart, rosary beads in hand. This was really all he had now, this moment of desperation. Nothing but a God who promised answers and a heart that yearned to understand. Over and over again he read every bible verse about homosexuality. Pages now tainted with tears, tugged slightly harder than usual as he flipped through the words he used to find so comforting. But no comfort came, only a definitive emptiness. Trying so desperately to search for answers. But nothing told him what he wanted to know. Markus wasn't like that. Markus wasn't evil. It just didn't compute. Markus=Evil made no sense. It was preposterous. Everything those words said held no comfort anymore. They felt like empty promises. Like lies. He'd had questions and he'd wanted answers. Markus had inadvertently answered what he was following him for, and why he wasn't being told. He'd told him when everyone else had evaded the question. It felt so wrong now, so out of place. People he trusted had been hiding things from him, keeping secrets. Doesn't that go against everything he'd ever learnt? Lying was wrong, especially in the name of self-interest. That's what church had taught him, and the people who attended. And the same people were doing just that. They told him homosexuality was bad, it was evil, a sin, but had they been lying about that too? What else had they lied about? The overflowing panic now increasing as the realisation crushed him and tore his entire worldview apart. 

The more he read those verses, the more he couldn't stop trembling. If. If Markus was gay. If he wasn't what everyone said gay people were. Then. Then did that mean whatever he'd been feeling about Markus had was possibility to be okay? What he'd been telling himself was just friendship, what he'd been pushing down for so long. He'd tried to convince himself that they were regular feelings, nothing but platonic emotions, and when his thoughts strayed too far he'd ignore them and think about something else until they died down. Was he sick too? Or was he normal. Was there the possibility that something he had denied himself for so long wasn't actually evil? 

No sooner than that thought had crossed his mind he felt faint, heart racing uncontrollably. His room flashing before his eyes, changing and shifting form blurring and merging with a small room with dark grey carpet.


	3. Memories Hurt, And So Does Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: conversion therapy methods are discussed in this chapter - including electroshock therapy

He couldn't tell what was reality and what was a dream at this point. Everything around him felt so real now, his bedroom completely replaced. Looking down he could see little nodes stuck to his arms, attached to small blue wires. He swatted at them, trying to get them off but his hands just moved through them, and they stayed firmly in place. Looking up from his arms he could see an old man, in a grey suit, sunken blue eyes and wispy white hair. This man had a terrifying familiarity about him, as if he knew him, and knew him well. But he couldn't place him anywhere in his memory. 

'We had so much success with this technique last week' the man said 'so it's time for a second go at it' he smiled so kindly but something in his eyes said he only held wicked intentions. 'We'll have you fixed in no time. Now, repeat the verses after me: Leviticus 18:22 You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.' 

 

And then, then he remembered what they'd whispered that night. What he'd forgotten. Eyes widening, shock setting in. Standing in front of him was Doctor Steven John Levy, a psychiatrist his parents had gotten him to see after, he paused for a moment wracking his brain for what it was that had led him to this moment. Oh. That's right. There'd been an incident at school. Something had happened. He'd been arguing with Gavin Reed, a kid in his class, about racial politics in a secluded corridor of the school. And then, as they'd both been leading up to their main points, red in the face from passion regarding the subject, Gavin had taken his face in his hands and kissed him. And he found himself kissing him back, hands around Gavin's neck, Gavin holding him against the cool brickwork of the wall. All thoughts of sinful transgressions gone from his mind. After that they started to meet up every now and then, in secluded places, arguing about something, and then making out. They continued on like that for two months, secret rendezvous, until they got found out, someone saw them. It had been a girl from church, she was a year younger than him and he didn't know her all that well. And as the blood drained from his face he knew everything would fall apart as soon as he arrived home. He remembered how stupid he'd felt. The guilt and disgust overwhelming. He remembered walking through the door of his home, his parents sitting on the couch and a man sitting there with them. The same man who was sitting in front of him right now. 

He felt overwhelmingly strange, the contrast of this situation of where he was now. But for some reason the revelation made sense. 

He'd started therapy the day after. Kept home from school while he went through treatment. 

'Come on Connor. Repeat the verse. I know you can do it. Besides. You know what happens  
if you don't'. 

He tried to lift his arms, to cover his mouth, to fight, to do anything but sit here and relive this, but they seemed to be secured to a chair. Which was funny. Because he didn't remember sitting down. Doctor Levy gave him a stern look.

'Repeat the verse Connor.' He stressed every word. 

And automatically like a robot he repeated the verse, words coming out without his permission. 

'Very good. You're doing great Connor. Now onto part two'. 

No. No no no no no no no no no no. He shook is head. It wasn't what he wanted. 

And he could feel it all of a sudden. The buzz of electricity running through his skin. At this point he wasn't sure if he was screaming or crying, everything hurt. He just wanted whatever was happening to stop. And then he could feel his body being touched on the arm, then someone stroking his hair and softly calling his name. Markus? Was that Markus. He wanted to reah out. To hold him. Anything but this. Anything but this. 

 

//

 

Markus was incredibly worried when Connor ran out of the café. There was regular religious disgust with queer people and then there was, well, whatever that was. He'd just stood up and ran away, he didn't even stay to yell at him and tell him he was a heathen and didn't deserve to live. And while he wanted Connor to know the truth of his situation he didn't want him to be mad at him. And maybe he was just ever so slightly worried about his well-being and wanted to make sure he got home okay. So he stood up and decided to walk the short distance to Connors house, paying for their food as he left. As he walked to Connor's place he thought about how his plan had played out. Coming out to Connor was his last resort. He'd thought that maybe it would have changed something about how he saw him. That maybe it would help. But all he'd seemed to have done was make Connor angry and distressed. He scowled and kicked at a small rock on the footpath. Maybe it was a mistake to have told him so soon. In that moment he realised that a world where Connor hated him, wasn't really a world he would be happy with. While there was every possibility that Connor wouldn't want to talk to him after that revelation he had to at least try. When he arrived, he knocked on Connors pristine white wooden door, and Connor's mother answered. 

'Oh Hello Markus. Can I help you with something?' He could tell that was definitely confused about why Markus was here. 

'Hi Mrs Dechart!' he smiled sweetly at her, 'I may have said some things to Connor that I regret and I think he's mad at me. I came over to tell him I'm really sorry and I didn't mean what I said.' 

'Well that explains why he didn't even say hello to me when he arrived home.' She opened the door to allow him in. 'Up the stairs, first door on the right.' 

'Thankyou so much.' 

And with that he walked up to Connor's room, knocking lightly on the door. 

'Connor?' But no reply. So he tried again. After the third time he pressed his ear against the door, hearing gentle whimpering and murmurs of 'please stop'' and 'no no no no no no not again'. Immediately he pulled open the door to find Connor shaking on the ground. Touching his arm lightly, no response. He really didn't know what to do. He felt useless in such a situation. All he do was sit next to Connor and hold him, continuing to repeating his name in a soft voice, stroking his hair waiting for whatever what was happening to stop. 

While he sat with Connor he looked around Connors room out of curiosity, having never actually been in here before. It was… such a Connor place. It exuded his personality. His desk was neat and tidy, textbooks all organised. He had a massive book shelf filled with everything from sci-fi graphic novels to the classics to an impressive collection of bibles. He smiled to himself, of course he'd have a bible collection. Looking over to Connor's bed, it seemed to be have a black duvet cover that had star constellations on it. And on the one wall that was painted a dark navy blue, was a coloured periodic table of the elements.

It didn't take very long for Connor to wake up.

'M-Markus? Is, Is it really you'

'Yeah it's me'

'Ohmygod Markus' 

And then Connor launched himself at Markus, latching onto him as tight as he possibly could, encapsulating him in his arms and proceeded to sob, unintelligible words coming out in between heavy breaths. Only some words came out clearly, 'I'm so sorry' 'Gavin, I forgot about Gavin how could I forgot about Gavin'. And Markus held him closely through his inane rambling, rubbing his back waiting for him to calm down. While he wanted to apologise and set things straight, whatever was happening now seemed much more important. Slowly Connors sobs quieted down, and his breathing calmed, reaching some semblance of normalcy. He rubbed at his eyes and moved away from Markus slightly, so he could sit up properly. 

'Markus I. I'm so sorry' 

'Shhh Connor, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm more worried about you than anything else. Do you, want to talk about it?' 

'No. I left, I ran off, I didn't even give you a chance to explain. I just left and then, then' he trailed off, unable to even properly explain how he felt. 'Can you shut my door please Markus?' Markus nodded in response and closed the door and returned to the floor, sitting ever so slightly closer to Connor than he was before. He took a deep breath and started filling Markus in, explaining slowly what happened and what he remembered. 

'After, after what you said to me, everything felt so odd, it made sense just to go home. You know? And so I did. And I, well I did what I usually did and read my bible. Because everyone always said that, that people like you were evil. Nothing made sense after that. People in my life I trusted, that read the same bible I did, they were liars, and you, you told me the truth. You weren't like they said. And then. I think I had a flash back?' He breathed in again, not sure how Markus would take this revelation. 'About, about gay conversion therapy'. Connors speech was by no mean as fluid as it usually was, but this took Markus completely by surprise. 

'What? You? But', and Connor started crying again. 

'I was young, someone, someone saw me and a boy, kissing, at school. Mum called someone the same day. And I guess. Well. That what happened was so awful I decided I'd rather forget it. And I did. Everything you said led me here, to my room, on my knees, answering questions I had, and questions I didn't have. What I remembered, it was awful, but now I know at least. A lot of the truth of myself was hidden for so long. I feel a lot lighter knowing', at this Connor rested his head on Markus's shoulder, somewhat overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. The flashback had left him feeling somewhat disembodied. But he was eternally grateful for Markus who was just happy to sit in silence with him as he recovered. And talking about it made him feel a lot better. All he had left now was an odd feeling of guilt. 

Markus had to admit he was wildly confused. He'd always assumed he'd known Connor better than almost everyone, they spent so much time with each other recently, they'd practically grew up with each other. And yet this was something he'd never know. He'd never seen it. All this time he'd been trying to get Connor to just loosen up, and yet he'd ended up being the one who led Connor to this moment, to self-introspection. But thinking back he couldn't deny that something had happened with Connor. He remembered Sundays where Connor would excessively fiddle with his rosary beads, and his moments of confession were much longer than so many others when they were in grade 9. His skin had always seemed so clammy, his face hollow. As he recalled things Connor had always seemed much more skittish and anxious than anyone, much more so than anyone else their age. And that was probably when everything had been happening. As he sat there with his friend it suddenly occurred to him how much things would change now. Connor remembered, his worldview had changed and shifted in a mere moment. He'd been shattered. There was no coming back from that. He had every piece of his puzzle. And now he had to decide what to do with that information. 

'Are you gonna tell your parents you remember?' Markus asked. They'd been quiet for a little while now, Connor sipping intermittently on the Markus's water bottle. 

Connor hummed slightly in response. 'I'm not sure honestly. I'm scared Markus. I'm so so scared. But I think I should. I spent so long denying myself my heart. Everything I was was taken away from me before I even had the chance to decide what I really wanted and who I really am.' 

'It's not going to be easy you know? If you tell them.' 

'I know. I honestly don't know what to do.' Connor had always seemed so sure of himself, always known where he was going, to have him make such a sincere statement honestly broke Markus's heart. 

'Well you can tell them if you want, and you're welcome to stay with me if need be. Or you pretend you don't know and you follow me around like you used to, you go to church like normal. You pretend things were like they were before'. At the latter Connor looked sadder, as if realising the gravity of the situation he was in. The decision he made now would affect his entire future. 

'I can't.'

'Can't what.' 

'I can't decide.' 

'Markus, I don't even know who I am anymore, how can I tell my parents when I can't even decide who I am and what I believe?' 

'You're Connor.' 

'What do you mean?' Connor cocked his head to the side, looking like a slightly confused puppy. 

'You smile at children on the streets. You greet every single person who walks through the door of church every Sunday without fail. You're willing to help people learn and grow. You try to see the best in everyone, even when you have your doubts. You stand by what you believe in. You're inquisitive and head strong. And I also think you're brave.' By the time Markus had finished his little speech he was blushing. Religion wasn't the only thing that made up Connors personality, having everything shift for his so suddenly didn't change him in the slightest. After everything he was still him. And it annoyed him greatly that he didn't understand that. Connor had to understand the strength and beauty that lived in his heart. He was more than what people said he was.

'Oh' Connor smiled, comforted by the notion, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. 

'Things may be different for you but you're still you. And I know you can figure this out. And besides, you've got me. You're not alone this time. You won't be alone ever again'. Connor had thought he'd run out of tears to cry at this point. But it turned out he had not. 

'I'd be so lost without you Markus'. Connor hugged Markus for what felt like the 100th time that afternoon, and despite the cold uncomfortable wooden floor, he felt warm and more at home with his arms around Markus than he ever had anywhere else. 

'I'm, I'm going to tell them' Connor whispered, pulling away from Markus, rubbing the tears from his eyes 'I don't care what they think. They took my decision away and now I've got it back'. 

'I want to figure myself out, I can't do that If I spend all my time hiding from everything that I am. That's not fair'. Markus grinned and ruffled Connors hair.

'You're a deviant now.' He said giggling 

'Certified heathen' 

'Nah you're just you. Nothing wrong with being yourself. You're still more of a saint than ever'. 

'I guess you're right.'

'I know I am Connor.' 

In all honesty Connor would not have changed that moment for anything else in the world. Usually when he was with Markus it was because someone told him to be there. It was obligation that turned into his favourite part of his day. And for so long it had been under some weird false pretence, a deception of the highest order. But he appreciated Markus's friendship. Having everything out in the open was really nice. Well, nearly everything. There was still one secret he wasn't sure Markus wanted to know. One thought and feeling he'd never been able to properly place or acknowledge. And now he knew what he'd forgotten he actually had the courage to place that feeling.

Love. 

He was in love. 

Giving himself permission to fully experience that emotion in such a moment was like experiencing closure he never knew he needed. It locked every loose end into place. It made sense of his confusion, pushing away the thoughts he had about him that were anything but friendship related. It made sense of so much. 

'Hey Markus?' He questioned. 

'Yeah?' This was it, he either backed out now or he told him. 

'I- I' he stuttered for a moment before finally spitting the sentence out as quickly as he could 'Ithinkiloveyou'. His face was beet red, eyes looking down at his hands. 

'Wait what?'

'I. Think. I. Love. You.' This time he said it as slowly as he could. 

'I think I love you too you idiot'

Markus held onto Connor's hand, a soft smile gracing his lips. Sometimes waiting for something was worth it. Because things happen in strange and unexpected ways. Holding out hope that maybe, just maybe Connor liked him back in any regard was beyond a miracle. And yet here they were, pouring out their hearts on a cold wooden floor in the room of a catholic household. 

'Well I wasn't expecting that at all' Markus stated matter of factly. 

And then Connor was giggling. Possibly because he wasn't even expecting Markus to reciprocate his feelings, or because the elation of finally openly expressing his emotions he couldn't tell. 

'You're so beautiful when you laugh', the sentence just slipped out and Markus covered his mouth out of embarrassment and Connor blushed in response. And Markus couldn't help himself. He carefully took Connor's face in his hands looking softly into his eyes. And then he rested his forehead against the others, giving him a chance to pull away. 

'Hey Connor?' he whispered, all of a sudden feeling incredibly out of breath. 'Can I kiss you?' Their closeness was making him slightly giddy. While Markus prided himself on his strength he could feel himself trembling slightly. 

'Yes. Yes you can'. And so his lips met Connors, softly capturing them with his own. But the moment was short lived as three knocks on the bedroom door sent them quickly moving apart

'Connor, Markus, have you two sorted out your fight?' Connor's Mother's shrill voice pierced through the door with ease. And then the door knob twisted and was jiggled slightly. 'Connor?' her voice was lower, much more cautious. Her son hardly ever locked his door. Connor glanced at Markus in a panic. They both quickly stood up, Connor to unlock and open the door and Markus moving to the chair at Connors desk. 

'Yes Mother?' She smiled sweetly at him and then her face fell. Markus was on edge. What had she noticed? Connor rubbed his cheek awkwardly under her eagle eyed gaze. 

'Did he make you cry?' She placed her hand on his cheek. Connor flinched slightly at the touch. 

'No Mum, he didn't. And were fine' She dropped her hand, obviously not used to her son being so curt and forthright. 

'Sweetheart what's wrong. I'll make him leave if he's upsetting you'. Connor glared at her slightly, an odd look for the usually sweet boy. 

'I know Mum. I know the reason why everyone made me follow Markus. I know why It was me. I remember therapy too. What he did to me.' Connor had dropped his voice. Deep, gravelly, commanding. Angry. 

'We did what was best for you Connor.' And then she suddenly seemed to remember Markus was still in the room and she stormed in, pulling him up by the t-shirt. 'What did you tell him? What did you do to my son?' At that Markus grinned. 

'Nothing he didn't want me to Mrs Dechart', finishing his statement with a wink at Connor, who blushed in reaction. At this point Mrs Dechart was furious, face red with rage. She raised her hand, preparing to hit Markus, but Connor got to her first, holding onto her arm before she could do anything. 

'Mum please. Stop' 

'You were perfectly fine before he came into your life Connor. Perfectly normal. We fixed everything.' Her voice was strained, tears flowing red and hot. But she lowered her hand and Connor let go of it. 

'At least let me decide who I am for myself. Don't force that choice on me. That wasn't fair.' Connor had lost any semblance of control he may have had before. His voice was raised, hands in fists. He'd never had a choice before, no decisions of his own. And this was a decision he had to make. Because all progress started with the truth. 

'Mum. I'm gay. I'm gay and I love Markus. There's nothing you can do to fix me. I'm not broken. I'm just me.' His voice cracked, biting onto his lower lip so he could contain himself. She narrowed her eyes. 

'Very well. I see you've made a decision. A disgusting and wrong decision. I want both of you out of my house. NOW.' Her word was final. She couldn't come to terms with Connor's truth, and thus had decided to remove him from the family equation. At this statement, Markus stood up, opened Connors wardrobe, and just started stuffing clothes into his backpack. And then he turned to Connor. 

'We're going to go now okay?' He voice was soft, fully preparing for Connor to completely break down as soon as they left Connors house. Connor nodded and they pushed passed Mrs Dechart in the hallway, leaving their house. As Connor closed the front door he felt that while he had just made the biggest decision in his life he'd made the correct choice. Maybe this was what Kamski meant? The path he'd thought he'd chosen wasn't the path he'd chosen. It had been chosen for him. And now he got to chose that path himself. He may not be sure where it led, but he was happy that he had the autonomy to decide where he was going for himself. 

They walked home, Connor wheeling his bike, its front basket now containing Markus's backpack and his clothes. The streetlights lighting their way with their cold light. It was a walk that both boys were used to taking, but tonight it felt different. Bittersweet. The two of them talked a little on their journey, but it felt much more natural to be quiet in the moment. They both needed to process what had happened. Both the mutual confession of love and Connor now being homeless. When they arrived to Markus's house, they set him up in the spare bedroom. As sad as the situation that just happened, Markus hoped Connor would learn that he was safe in his home. His Grandfather was far too old to even care about bullshit rules. He'd accepted Markus, even when no one else had, and so to did he embrace Connor. 

Together they decided not to go to school the next day, instead deciding to stay up all night watching old cartoons and eating ice cream out of the tub. Markus even somehow convincing him to have hot chocolate with butterscotch schnapps in it. The day had turned out terribly, why not break out of every mould. Every time Connor would cry Markus would hold him and tell him he was perfect. If his parents didn't see that then they didn't deserve to have him. And then he would cry harder, only just now understanding how much he'd needed to hear those words. Markus was the glue holding him together. Something beautiful and special. His world had fallen apart. But it had also changed. His axis had moved and now he was existing in Markus's universe. 

No matter how hopeless he felt, Markus had lit something inside of his heart. Something warm and soft, something worth treasuring. As far as "disastrous" life choices went, Markus was the best one he would possibly make.


	4. Epilogue - Learn To Love Yourself

Learning to love yourself when you've been brought up in an environment that constantly tells you you're wrong, that you don't fit anywhere is extremely. The self-loathing comes and goes. It's a slow journey, filled with both valleys and peaks. This is something Connor had to learn. Something he got better at over time. Having his crisis of faith thrown into the entire situation made it so much more difficult to deal with. He was being told different things from every angle, 'god loves you' 'burn in hell', the realisation that some people were never going to accept him was enlightening. Sometimes people just didn't like you. It had more to do with them than you. But no matter what he always had Markus. 

Connor had gone through so much, struggled and buried himself in guilt. And every time he fell down a hole Markus was hold his hand and help him get out. Having his life restructured so drastically was hard, even heartbreaking. For a while he lost some of his sense of self, unable to reconcile two drastically different parts of himself. But it was something he had to go through. Something he had to overcome. When nothing made sense Markus was there. He was always there. Every step of the way. 

It had been six months since he'd started living with Markus and his grandfather Carl. While it was different to how things used to be, he'd come to love Carl like a parent. They'd loved him and helped him as much as they could. They'd offered him a safe environment where he felt comfortable to make decisions that he'd never even thought he could make. He'd been able to explore himself without external judgement, the only conflict and turmoil came from within. That would go away with time. And love. 

Slowly over the duration of time his stuff in the spare room slowly migrated into Markus's room. At first it was a throw rug he'd left on Markus's bed after they'd watched a movie one day. And then it was some of his shoes, a few of his hoodies. Then he'd basically moved into Markus's room. Nights that he had really bad nightmares he would wander into his room. And then he would do it on nights he didn't have nightmares. And then Markus's room became Connor's room. After a few break ins to Connors house, collecting more of his stuff from his room while his family was out, and his book collection, just like the rest of his belongings, joined Markus's room. An ever-growing collection of clutter. 

Currently they were sitting on a park bench, Connor resting his head on Markus's shoulder. They were perfectly content to just enjoy each others company, a peaceful moment in a loud word. The sun shined on them, dappled through the leaves of the trees that surrounded them. Everything had changed so much since Connor had made his final choice. Their church had decided to excommunicate them, no longer willing to hold on hope that they could be saved. Connor had taken it incredibly hard, his entire family, both blood and church, had abandoned him. Markus then started looking into queer accepting and affirming churches. Connor's religion was important to him, even though he had spent time struggling with both his faith and himself, it gave him structure. 

The first time he told Connor about a church he'd found a few towns over he'd burst into tears, grateful that Markus had gone to such lengths to find him somewhere that he could belong. Because that was something so important to him. 

Markus took Connors hand and squeezed it and turned to look at him. 

'You became my whole world. You know that?' Connor laughed. 'We used to fight so much as kids. And now here we are. Holding hands on a park bench. Who would have thought.'

'I never expected this outcome true. But I'm really glad it turned out like this'

'Me too Connor. Me too.'

In that quiet moment the two of them knew that as long as they had each other they knew that they would be okay.


End file.
